


Lead, Follow, Fall

by Seahaven



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: Multi, Rape Aftermath, Rape Recovery
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-06
Updated: 2013-04-23
Packaged: 2017-12-07 14:47:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/749726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Seahaven/pseuds/Seahaven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Grantaire is a  constant, something reliable that will never change. He will always be a cynic. He will always be a drunk. He will always love Enjolras. What happens when Grantaire gets raped and everything changes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Blame it on Bad Luck

The cold wind swept through Grantaire and chilled him to the bone as he wandered out of the tavern. He hadn’t the slightest clue what time it was. Somewhere in the middle of really late and really early he assumed. He was too drunk to care. He stumbled slightly almost tripping over an inconveniently placed bench leg. He turned left down an abandoned alley as a shortcut. His flat wasn’t too far from the bar, there was a short walk involved. The neighborhood wasn’t desirable and under normal circumstances he would never walk here at this time alone. Normally he wouldn’t have to. He would be home, pass out, or out with Courfeyrac. Sometimes he just slept off his drunken stupor at the Musain. Tonight was different. Midway through the meeting Enjolras had gotten tired of his cynical slurs and sent him home early.

****

_“You’ve drunk too much Grantaire. Go home and sleep it off. We do not need you here.”_

****

It was not the words that sent Grantaire to the bar with a sour attitude and a need to get so drunk he couldn’t remember, but the look that Enjolras gave him. It was a look of disdain and disgust. Apollo, his greek god clad in red, was disgusted by him. Grantaire was not a stupid man, on the contrary he was a rather sharp man, he knew his infatuation with Enjolras would go nowhere. Half of the time the man could barely stomach him.

****

“Well, well, well. What do we have here boys?” a voice sneered.

****

Grantaire looked up, brought out of his reverie. A group of sketchy looking men were gathered in the middle of the alley way. The men wore matching animalistic smirks and sported bottles of alcohol. Grantaire counted three of them. The leader, the man who originally spoke, reached into his pocket and pulled out something shiny. It suspiciously resembled a knife. Grantaire’s eyes widened and he sobered up a bit at the seriousness of the situation. He reached into his pocket and brought out his change purse. Better to lose his money than his life.

****

“Here,” he tossed the change purse at the men, “It’s all I have.”

****

The men laughed, a savage terrible sound, and one picked up the fallen purse. One of the men stepped forward, towards Grantaire. Grantaire stumbled backwards, eager to get away from the men. What he didn’t count on was walking into another body. Grantaire swiveled around as fast as his alcohol dimmed reflexes would let him. Two men had been behind him. That meant there was five men circling him. Each man eyeing him like he was a steak and they were hungry animals.

****

He screamed out as he was grabbed from behind. The man forced him to the ground and pushed his face into the ground. Grantaire struggled as best he could but the men just held him down.

****

“Enough,” one of them called as a knife was pressed against his back. Grantaire stopped struggling.

****

“You think your money is all we want pretty boy,” one of the men barked, “No, we’re going to show you what happens when pretty rich boys like you come through our neighborhood all alone.”

****

_Oh God, they were going to kill him._

_**** _

That was when the kicks began. All five men began kicking every surface of his body at once. Pain burst through his body. He reacted automatically crawling into a ball to protect his beaten body from more harm and shielding his head with his arms. This made the men laugh more. A man pulled him up roughly by his waist coat. Another man proceed to tear off his waistcoat while another untied and tore off his cravat. Before Grantaire realized what was happening his breeches were being unlaced and wrenched down his legs. Grantaire screamed and struggled again. Knife or no knife, he would not let this willingly happen.

****

“No!Stop!” he yelled hoarsely.

****

The men continued to beat him in an attempt to silence him. One of them stuffed his cravat in his mouth to act as a gag. Grantaire once again found himself forced to the ground. He whimpered into his gag.

****

He felt it when the men broke his arm with a strong stomp.

****

He felt it when the first men entered him.

****

He felt it when the second man took him. And the third men. The fourth. The fifth.

****

He felt it when they slashed at his back with a knife, carving and slicing his flesh.

****

It felt like years, each man taking two turns with him. The pain and burning beginning to subside into a numbness. He could feel his own blood dripping down his body and forming a puddle beneath him. He could also feel the semen of his rapists mixing with his blood. He could hear them continue to laugh. The whole time they laughed. Their laughs were the last thing he heard before he blacked out.

****

 

* * *

 

****

Bahorel and Feuilly for once were both at a complete loss for words. They sat in Feuilly’s flat seated on either side of a bed. A bed that was currently occupied by an unconscious Grantaire.

****

They had found him in the alley, lying unconscious, naked, and injured in a puddle of his own blood, when they were walking back to Feuilly’s flat. (Bahorel’s was on the other side of town so, they decided he should just stay with Feuilly for the night.) They never would have found him if the two had not seen the group of men leaving it. Normally Feuilly avoided eye contact and kept his head down when a group of guys like that passed by but he couldn't help but notice two of them were lacing up their breeches. He automatically assumed they had raped some poor girl. Then Feuilly calmly grabbed Bahorel’s wrist and attempted to coyly memorize each man’s face. Bahorel glanced at him questionably but stopped walking. Feuilly waited until the other men had walked out of sight before dragging a confused Bahorel into the alleyway.

****

The sight they were confronted with was the last thing that he was imaging.

****

Grantaire. Grantaire lying knocked out on the ground. He clothes lay torn around him and blood flowed from his fragile body.His arm laid at an odd angle, most likely broken. He was bruised and looked dead.

****

The two men stood motionless and shocked staring at their injured friend.

****

Bahorel let out a cry of rage before running after the men the presumed attackers.

****

Feuilly ran forward to check for a pulse. He was relieved when he got one. He then began to asses the damage to his fallen friend. His back and the back of his legs were littered with bruises and lacerations. There was a steady flow of blood coming from some of the deep gashes on his back. Feuilly removed his overcoat and laid it upon his friend, trying to reserve some form of modesty. He removed the cravat from Grantaire’s mouth and pushed his hair off of his bruised face. He heard approaching and jumped in front of Grantaire to protect him from further harm.

****

“Bastards got away.” Bahorel growled. Feuilly nodded grimly. Bahorel stepped forward and lifted Grantaire off the ground and begun carrying him away. Feuilly rose silently and followed. They had carried Grantaire back to Feuilly’s flat where they washed him off and gave him their best attempt at first aid. They would have to fetch Joly in the morning.  It was obvious what had gone on.

****

Grantaire had been walking alone and was raped and beaten.

****

_This could have been prevented. One of them should have been with him._

****

“This is our fault,” Bahorel exploded.

****

“I know.”

****

“He was alone because we let him walk out by himself,” Bahorel raged.

****

“I know.”

****

“We should have stopped him from leaving. One of us should have left with him. We all knew how bad this neighborhood is!”

****

“I know Bahorel! Do you think I don’t fucking know?!”

****

The two friends fell back into their shocked silence and stared at Grantaire. They could do nothing until Grantaire woke.

 


	2. Dear Tragedy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan is made, and secrets are kept.

_Grantaire laughed as he and Bahorel wrestled in the shade of a weeping willow. Jehan, Feuilly, and Courfeyrac sat, leaning against the trunk of the tree laughing at a story Marius was telling. Joly and Bossuet sat together reading out of one of Joly’s medical books. Combeferre sat across from them attempting to convince Joly that he **did not** in fact have any of the diseases named in the text. Enjolras sat next to Combeferre reading about Robespierre._

_**** _

_Bahorel finally managed to pin Grantaire against the ground._

_**** _

_Bahorel disappeared._

_**** _

_“Bahorel?!” Grantaire calls out, wondering what has happened to his friend. He looks to the left where his other friends sit but something is wrong._

_**** _

_They are fading_

_**** _

_Grantaire screams_

_**** _

_Where are they going?_

_**** _

_“Don’t leave me!”_

_**** _

_“Please!”_

_**** _

_“Why would we leave you little slut?” another voice speaks._

_**** _

_A man appears. He’s familiar._

_**** _

_Grantaire is scared._

_**** _

_He gets up and tries to run, but he cannot move. He is frozen._

_**** _

_“You were so tight whore,” growls yet another voice._

_**** _

_Two men appear now._

_**** _

_They are them._

_**** _

_They raped him._

_**** _

_“No please! No! Not again!”_

__****  
  
** **

_“Grantaire!” “R, wake up!” He knows those voices. They don’t belong to his rapist. They are his friends._

_**** _

_Bahorel._

_**** _

_Feuilly._

_**** _

Grantaires blue eyes snap wide open in terror. Bahorel is hovering over him, concern clear on his face.

****

_Too close!_

****

Grantaire shoots backwards on the bed.

****

_Ouch_.

****

His back hurts, his arm hurts, his chest hurts. Everything hurts.

****

Bahorel flinches, and his eyes go impossibly wider. He tries to reach for Grantaire to comfort him.

****

“No!” the scream rips itself from Grantaire’s dry throat. He panics. He flails and kicks. He tries to scoot back more but he is pressed against the headboard and the wall. Firmly cornered. He doesn’t even feel the pain. Just panic and fear. He doesn’t hear Bahorel pleading with him to calm down. He doesn’t hear the door open. He doesn’t hear Jol and Feuilly running in. He only hears the blood rushing in his ears.

****

_He’s gasping for breath but no air is coming in. He can’t breath. His lungs are burning. He’s going to die._

******  
  
**

“Don’t touch him. He’s having a panic attack.” he hears Joly instruct calmly. It sounds all distorted, as if they’re all talking underwater. Maybe they are. Maybe that’s why he can’t breathe.

****

“Grantaire,” Joly addresses calmly, “You need to relax. You’re hyperventilating.”

****

_That makes sense._

****

“We need to slow his breathing,” Joly explains to either Bahorel or Feuilly.

****

“Taire,” Feuilly’s quiet voice breaks in, “Breath in and out just like me. Focus on my breathing.”

****

Grantaire focuses really hard. He can hear it, he thinks. The slow intake and outtake of breath. He imitates it as best as he can.

It works, he can finally draw in air after a little while. He looks back and forth to his three friends.

****

Bahorel looks terrified. Feuilly looks stressed. Joly just looks determined.

****

“Good,” Joly notes, “Very good R. You’re doing great. Now I need  to check your injuries. Is that okay. Will you let me do that? Bahorel and Feuilly will leave the room.”

****

Grantaire nods. He trusts Joly. Joly is good. So are Bahorel and Feuilly. He needs to remember that.

****

Joly looks to Feuilly who nods in response. He gently grabs Bahorel’s arm and tugs his resistant friend out of the room.

****

Grantaire still jumps when Joly’s gentle hand begin gently prodding and probing at him. Joly pauses and keeps his hands still until Grantaire relaxes again.

****

It turns out his arm is broken, the lacerations on his back are serious, some could be infected.

****

Grantaire whimpers in pain when Joly cleans his wounds and puts his arm in a sling. Joly apologizes and moves on to the next injury.

****

 

* * *

 

****

Grantaire is sleeping once more. The three men standing around the bed stare at him in pity and sadness.

****

“He made us promise,” Bahorel urged.

****

“They’re going to notice when he flinches every time someone tries to touch him,” Feuilly argued.

****

After Joly cleaned Grantaire up and applied proper medical care he called Bahorel and Feuilly back in at Grantaire’s request.

****

The injured man begged the three of them not to tell the others. They all promised at the time but Feuilly felt like the others should know. They could help way more than he could. Combeferre was smart and didn’t panic. Marius and Courfeyrac would cheer Grantaire up and help him forget. Enjolras and Bossuet could help Bahorel in his crusade for justice. Joly was already doing so much that Feuilly couldn’t.

****

Feuilly felt useless. He couldn’t even help his friend. The least he could do was call in backup.

****

Bahorel and Joly fully disagreed with him.

****

Joly strongly believed that Grantaire was his patient and that meant patient/doctor confidentiality. Grantaire was trusting him and he didn’t want to betray that trust. He had no right to.

****

Bahorel believed it was not anyone’s business. Grantaire for some reason didn’t want the others to know. Bahorel was sure as hell going to let his busted up friend get anything he wanted right now.

****

Grantaire however only desired for the others to remain in ignorance because they would treat him differently. He already saw it happening to the three friends that knew and couldn’t stand for it to happen to all his friends.

****

Feuilly however had to go along with it for the other two were the majority. A decision was made.

****

Grantaire was going to stay with them in secret. The men would say R left for a little while to visit a relative. When Grantaire felt ready he would return to normal society, no man the wiser of the tragedy of what happened to him.

 **  
**Joly would treat him physically. Bahorel was determined to find the men who did this. So that left Feuilly to deal with Grantaire’s mental state.


End file.
